


More Than Pieces on a Board

by slightlytookish



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/pseuds/slightlytookish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kingsguard were tearing the Red Keep apart looking for the little king but it was Margaery who found Tommen, tucked into a small alcove in a rarely used corridor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Pieces on a Board

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through _A Feast for Crows_ and references to past Margaery/Sansa.
> 
> This was written as part of got_exchange for the following prompt: Margaery, Tommen - a day in the life of the little king and queen, with trials and bumps and fun. Tommen POV would be interesting; peripheral Margaery/Sansa or Margaery/Cersei would be wonderful.

The Kingsguard were tearing the Red Keep apart looking for the little king but it was Margaery who found Tommen, tucked into a small alcove in a rarely used corridor. She would have walked right past him if she had not spent her childhood playing hiding games with her brothers; she had grown adept at spotting the smallest disturbance of a tapestry long ago, and the sight of one of Tommen's little boots sticking out from beneath the cloth would never escape her careful scrutiny. 

When she pulled the tapestry aside Margaery found her husband hugging his knees, as if he wished to make himself as small as possible. The eyes that met hers were red and swollen from crying, but Margaery made certain to pretend that she had not noticed.

"We have been looking everywhere for you, Your Grace," she said, smiling brightly as she crouched beside him. "Shall we return to the others now? I believe your mother was worried about you."

"No," he said, turning his face away to stare gloomily out of the narrow window. "I don't want to see anyone, especially not Mother."

Margaery frowned. She had grown used to Tommen's chatter and good cheer, to the way his whole face would light up whenever they met. She was accustomed now to his easy laughter, to the games he always wanted to play with her, to the way he would sit beside her in the garden and babble about the little excitements of his day – the warm bread with honey that he'd eaten at breakfast, the silly noises his horse made, the important documents he thought were so much fun to stamp. 

He might be the king and he might be her husband, but he was also a sweet little boy with a gentle heart, and Margaery didn't hesitate to gather her skirts and climb into the alcove beside him. It was a close fit but she curled herself small, her elbows knocking into her knees, and once she secured the tapestry behind them she was certain that they would not be disturbed. 

"Please tell me what troubles you, my king. It hurts my heart to see you so sad," she said, and even though she had been trained all her life to be charming and flattering – especially to kings, especially to her future husband – Margaery meant every word. Tommen was certainly not the husband she had imagined when she was a girl, but she did care for him and liked to think that they had struck up a friendship in place of a normal marriage. And she always wished for her friends to be happy.

The silence stretched for so long that Margaery thought that Tommen wouldn't speak. She thought of poor Loras and the rest of the Kingsguard, searching high and low for the king. She had slipped away when Cersei began screaming at them for losing Tommen, with Ser Jaime facing the worst of her wrath. Margaery was about to go and tell someone that she had found the king when Tommen finally turned to her, his face wet with fresh tears but his eyes blazing with anger. 

"Mother never lets me do anything!" he said. "She won't let me go to any of the council meetings, or sit on the Iron Throne, and now she won't let me joust until we get a new master-at-arms."

_How curious that she forbade everything that I encouraged you to do_ , Margaery thought but dared not say. _And if I said you should not attend the council meetings, nor sit on the throne, nor joust, I'm certain that Cersei would suddenly insist that you should_. She saw exactly how the queen regent was trying to undermine her, and yet it warmed her heart to know that Tommen trusted her and listened to her already. She would not steer him wrong. 

But she could not dwell on this now. Tommen was still speaking, his face growing red with agitation, and Margaery made sure to keep her expression carefully blank as she listened.

"I told her I didn't want a master-at-arms. I want Ser Loras to teach me, but she said he's too busy even though he promised that he would help me today. And now Mother is sending to Dorne for a new master-at-arms, and it will take forever for him to arrive, and I don't want a Dornishman anyway. I only want Ser Loras, because he's the best jouster in the realm, and also the nicest."

_No wonder Tommen is hiding now_ , Margaery thought. _I can't imagine that Cersei reacted well, if he said all this to her._

Tommen was watching her closely, waiting for her to speak, and there were so many things that Margaery wanted to say. But he was still Cersei's son, and the walls of the Red Keep had ears that never stopped listening, and so she smiled and made her voice sound suitably happy and hopeful. "But your sister is in Dorne. Perhaps this new Dornish knight will bring you news of Princess Myrcella, and tell you all about her adventures there. Wouldn't that be exciting?"

"I suppose so," Tommen said with a careless shrug, but she could tell by the intrigued look on his face that she had placated him, at least a little. "I'd still rather have Ser Loras teach me but Mother never listens. She still makes me eat beets all the time, even though she knows I don't like them."

Margaery wrinkled her nose in sympathy. "I don't like beets either. But they will help you grow big and strong, and you will need all your strength for jousting."

Tommen appeared to consider this. "Does Ser Loras eat beets?"

"Oh yes," Margaery said, fighting back a smile. "And all sorts of other vegetables, too. We have so many of them in the Reach, and delicious fruits as well."

"I wish we could go to Highgarden," Tommen said, looking glum. "Then Mother couldn't tell me what to do, and I could see the boats and gardens you told me about. Wouldn't you like that, Margaery? You could go home and see your brothers again."

_I'd like that more than I could ever say_ , Margaery thought, but she merely offered him a smile. "Someday we will," she said. "And I'll show you the boats and the gardens and the fountains and the horses. We have dogs, too. My brother Willas breeds them. I'm certain he would give you a puppy, if you wanted one."

"A puppy?" Tommen's eyes lit up. "I asked Mother for a kitten, but I would like a puppy too."

"What did she say?"

"She said she might allow it, if I don't bother her about jousting again." All the joy went out of Tommen's eyes, and Margaery could see the progress she'd made in cheering him up disappear along with it.

"Do you know what I think?" she said, putting her arm around Tommen's shoulders and drawing him close. "I think that if your mother sees you looking after your kitten, and watches how you care for it and protect it and love it, then she will soon change her mind and allow you to joust and attend the council meetings, just as you wish."

"Do you really think so?" Tommen sounded so hopeful that Margaery couldn't help but grin.

"Why, of course! Is that not what a king does? He provides for his people, and protects them and loves them, just as you would do for your kitten. Your mother will be certain to notice."

By now all traces of Tommen's sadness had vanished. He threw his arms around Margaery's neck and pulled her into a hug. "I want a kitten right away," he said. "Do you think I will be able to find one today, Margaery? Will you help me?"

"Of course, my love," she said, and kissed the top of his head. 

"Maybe we could find one for you, too," he said, his voice muffled by her shoulder. "So you won't feel so sad anymore."

Margaery pulled away from him, laughing. "But I'm happy, my king. So very happy."

"But sometimes you're sad," Tommen said, looking far more perceptive than Margaery had ever imagined he could be. "Especially since Sansa left. You miss her, don't you? I know you were friends."

Margaery thought of Sansa, of the long walks they had taken together, of the smiles they had shared and their easy conversations. She remembered the feel of Sansa's arm linked with hers, and the soft press of Sansa's lips against her own, and swallowed heavily around the sudden lump in her throat.

"Yes," she said softly. "I miss her very much."

"Me too," Tommen replied. "She was always nice to me." He brightened suddenly. "Maybe we could visit her too someday, if we ever find out where she is."

Margaery looked out of the window, blinking quickly. In a moment she was able to face her little husband with dry eyes and a warm smile. "That would be so lovely," she said. "But now I think we've hidden from the others long enough, Your Grace. All of the Kingsguard and most of the court are looking for you, and I think they will be very worried if we stay here for much longer."

Tommen stuck out his lower lip, looking more like the small boy that he was than the wise young king he had been just a moment before. "All right," he said, sighing unhappily, though he went with Margaery without complaint. 

Hand in hand they walked through the Red Keep. Remarkably they met no one else along the way; the Kingsguard and the Gold Cloaks and all the rest that Cersei had sent searching for Tommen must have turned their attention to the training yard and the outer grounds. Margaery let Tommen tug her along as she glanced around for someone to deliver a message that the king was safe, and she hardly noticed where they were going until she found herself being led into the Great Hall. 

Empty, the room seemed much larger than Margaery had remembered. Beside her Tommen stood very still and stared at the Iron Throne.

"Mother always let Joffrey sit up there," he said, sounding wistful.

Cersei might have found a way to block every one of Margaery's suggestions, to keep all of her ideas for Tommen from becoming reality, but Margaery could give him this, right now, when there was no one around to stop them. 

She turned to Tommen with an encouraging smile. "Go on." 

"Really?" Tommen glanced around fearfully, as if he expected his mother to appear in an instant. Perhaps she would, and perhaps she wouldn't, but Margaery couldn't bring herself to care. 

"You are the king," she said. "You can go wherever you want and sit wherever you please. All of this is yours, including the throne." When Tommen still didn't move, she leaned down and whispered in his ear. "I'll race you to it."

Tommen looked up at her in surprise – his lady wife, challenging him to a race? – and grinned before sprinting down the length of the hall. Margaery followed behind, laughing, and made sure to let her little husband win. 

When he reached the throne first he cheered and clapped his hands; it was a game to him, like so many things were. _But he and I are more than pieces on a board_ , Margaery thought as she watched Tommen climb onto the Iron Throne, his cheeks flushed from running and his feet not touching the floor. _And this is just the beginning._


End file.
